The Girl

by K Larsen

  Dallas’s chest heaves with his laughter. “I don’t know. You’re supposed to be the smarty-pants in this relationship.”

  32

  Charlotte

  We’re outside sitting on the porch. Fireflies buzz around sporadically blinking on and off. It’s akin to looking at a backyard lit up with Christmas lights through fence slats as you walk by. Twinkling and glittering with bioluminescence. Miniature storms raging in their rear-ends.

  “Did you know that the males use their butt light to attract a mate?” Dallas asks.

  I look to him. “I didn’t. Holden permitted me to stay up late once in a great while, so I could see them. They’re so beautiful.”

  “Did you sit just like this and watch them blink.”

  “No, we’d chase them and catch them,” I tell him.

  “Gross, they’re ugly up close.”

  I nod, a soft smile on my lips. “Yeah. This one time when Nora was here though, their grossness didn’t matter. We had the best time. We ran around the yard leaping and trying to capture fireflies in our hands. Even Holden. He caught one and brought it to Nora and me. I always stayed close to her side. When he opened his hand, we both ooo’d and ahh’d at the little bug and his bright butt light. He gently moved it into Nora’s hands and went to catch one for me. I remember thinking how strange it was that he could be so gentle and generous. He thought of me. He wanted me to have one. It was a strange sensation in the moment.” I slide off the porch and point. “We were over there. Nora inspected the little bug, letting me get a good look at it. ‘It’s so neat,’ she said.

  “I nodded my agreement. ‘Yes. I’ve never seen one this close before.’ I stuck a finger out to touch it. ‘Do you think he feels scared because you’re holding him?’ I looked up at her, understanding sinking in.

  “‘Maybe,’ she answered. And I knew then, that animals and people were not meant to be kept unless they wanted to be and that maybe, Nora was understanding too. Her mind was so fragile then, I had to tread carefully. ‘Are you scared?’ I whispered up at Nora. ‘I think wild things should be free,’ she said. Wild things. It was the oddest thing to say, and it confused me, so I asked her to explain. ‘Are we wild, Nora?’ Holden exclaimed in the distance that he caught one for me. Panic flashed inside me. I wanted Nora’s answer, but Holden was headed for us. The kid in me, though, wanted a firefly of my own and I was a little excited to get one. My eyes darted to hers when she said, ‘No, Lotte. We are not wild.’ My heart raced. ‘And not free,’ I breathed. She nodded at me and turned to Holden as he drew closer giving him her full attention like he demanded.

  “She did not look scared at her realization. It was like she had a light switch between sane and... I don’t know what to call the other Nora. Anyway,” I continue, “I held out my hands for the firefly. Holden’s giant, rough fingers brushed it into my tiny palms and I stared at it—mesmerized until I realized it was wild and should have freedom. I let it go with a squeal and chased it around, jumping and clapping behind it, for the first time in a long time feeling carefree.” I drop my head back and look up at the thick blanket of stars above us. Dallas bumps my shoulder then takes my hand.

  “Sometimes, Nora and I’d play in the laundry lines on sunny windy days. Once or twice, Holden even joined in, chasing us, catching us and tickling us until we begged him to stop. You know, I hate those memories almost as much as the others.”

  “Why?” Dallas asks quietly, admiring the stars alongside me.

  “Because they were such a contrast juxtaposed to the sick black days that it made the dark days seem even more black. The cabin could be bright with light one second, and thick with tension and abuse the next. It was bipolar and unpredictable. It’s harder that way to gain any sort of comfort that accompanies routine.”

  “I understand that,” says Dallas. “The good days felt hopeful, but there is always that lingering nugget of dread. Like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like you have to enjoy the good because you know that instantly it might be snatched from you.”

  I turn to him nodding. “Yes. Yes. That’s exactly it.”

  “That’s how it felt with my mom too. I wanted to love the good moments so hard. But it came with the knowledge that the bad was right around the corner. It tainted everything and made me question and second guess myself.”

  “It’s a terrible way to live,” I say, resting my head on Dallas’s shoulder.

  “Sure, but if either one of us hadn’t lived like that would we be so… connected? It might be the reason we clicked that first day.”

  “I’d like to think we’re more than the sum of our past.”

  He shifts me so I’m facing him and we’re chest to chest. “Oh, we are. But our pasts, might have been the spark that lit the fuse to cause this raging fire.”

  I giggle. “Raging fire, eh?”

  “You are nothing short of a wildfire, City, and you definitely burn me up.” He peppers my face with little kisses.

  “I love you,” I say, laughing. Leaning back, supported by his arms around my lower back, I dangle partly upside down and gaze at the sparkling stars above.

  “What’s the most ridiculous thing you can think of that a person might actually do.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “You asked a ridiculous question earlier. It’s my turn,” he says, and sways me side to side. It makes my hair swing back and forth through the air in a way that makes it look like it’s dancing.

  “Dance naked in public. Like not silly dance, but slow dance.”

  “What?” he laughs. It booms out of him, too loud and jovial for this place, and I like it. I tighten my abdominals until I’m standing upright.

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I can picture in my head.” He raises a brow at me. “What? It is.”

  “Let’s dance naked then.” My heart hiccups in my chest. I can’t say no to Dallas. And, I don’t really want to this time. There is nothing out here but us, nature and wild animals. And after the river moment, I’m jonesing to see more of him bare again. To be out of the water. To really look at him, feel him.

  He lifts his shoulders slightly. “You in?” he asks. Energy, raw and volatile bounces between us. I stand ramrod straight in his arms and nod. I bow my head and watch my arms drop to the hem of my shirt. Dallas sucks in a breath before stepping back. His fingers go for his shirt but I stop him.

  “No, wait,” I say, my hand on his forearm. “Watch me and then let me watch you.”

  “Your hands are sweating,” he whispers at my touch.

  “I’m good. I promise.”

  I remove my clothes with fumbling hands because of how much they’re shaking but I push myself. My tank barely makes a sound as it drops in the grass. I shuck off my shorts next and step out of them. Dallas’s eyes are glued to my body in a way that makes me feel so much anticipation that my stomach clenches. I unclasp my bra and let it slide down my arms and drop. Wildlings. That’s what we are right now. Uninhibited and feral. My undies pool around the tops of my feet. I kick them aside. Dallas’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and I don’t think I’ve encountered anything sexier before. He pushes his hair back from his forehead before ripping his shirt off and throwing it aside. And now it’s my turn to stand in awe. His muscles contract with his movements, tense ridges highlighting his body, as his boots come off, then his pants and finally his boxers. My cheeks flush at his erection. I’ve never seen one. It looks different than I imagined, less scary.

  “Now what?” he asks, his words breathy and quiet as if he’s trying not to break the spell.

  “We dance?” My voice is too high and squeaky to be considered confident but I am not embarrassed about it.

  “Whatever the lady wants,” he says. His voice is low and gritty and makes my belly tingle.

  His fingers graze my hips before he slides his palms around me until they rest at my lower back. My skin ignites in the wake of his touch. Reaching up, I snake my arms around his neck, reveling at th
e softness of the short hairs at the nape of his neck under my fingers. Dallas pulls me flush against him, his erection pressed between us at my belly button. It’s rock hard yet so silky. One of his hands slides low, cupping one butt cheek before he begins to sway us side to side.

  I rest my head on his chest, body on fire, and hum a nonsensical tune as we sway and twirl in slow circles. The moon above is nearly full and so bright it casts just enough light to set a romantic tone. Dallas pulls back, sliding his hands from my lower back upward, across my triceps and drags them down my arms until he’s got my hands, leaving a wake of goosebumps behind. He pushes me away from him before grinning and twirling me under the canopy of stars, then spins me back in—my back to his front—and out again. I laugh as he pulls me flush against him again.

  He cranes his neck until his forehead rests on mine. “This isn’t as ridiculous as it sounded.”

  With a slight snort I laugh, “We should totally go to my prom like this.”

  Angling my head slightly, my lips find his. A groan rips out of him and into me as I press myself against him and deepen the kiss. My fingers clutch his shoulders with fierce need. His hands cup my ass and lift. My body moves on instinct as I wrap my arms around his neck. He swings me around, feet swinging through the air, four lips devouring, and I grin against his mouth. When he stills, I snake my legs around his waist. Dallas looks at me. His pupils big and round and hungry. I want more. I want it all. We don’t speak as Dallas lowers us to the ground. My eyes hyper focused on his—on that look he’s giving me. The one that screams I’ll eat you up.

  Dallas lays me back, the grass still a hint damp from the rain earlier and cold against my hot skin, and I let my legs drop from around his waist. Kneeling between my legs his palms are scratchy as they rub up to my hips and down my thighs to my knees methodically.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says, voice hoarse. Fingers trail from my hip over my belly to my breast like an electric shock. The fine hairs on my skin stand tall. I wet my lips, suddenly feeling dehydrated. I need Dallas like I need to breathe. My lungs seize up as his hands massage one breast, followed by the other. My eyes flutter closed, the sensation of his hands on my body causing too much pleasure for my brain to keep them open.

  “Look at me Charlotte.” My name suddenly a seductive groan with more syllables than normal. I snap my eyes open and find his eyes. He plants his hands on either side of my body, and in a push-up like movement, dips down, lips and tongue ghosting my neck, just below my ear. I gasp, and am struck with a full body shiver as he trails his lips, scorching hot, down my collarbone. Downward still, fiery breath on my nipples makes them pebble, and tugs on that invisible cord running between my legs. The sky glitters above. Not a single cloud marring the view. A shooting star streaks across the sky, and I silently make a little wish for this to be forever. The breeze, slight and intermittent, sends little fissures of pleasure coursing through me.

  Further, his tongue, and lips lick and kiss and trail past my belly button to the tender spot where my hip meets my thigh. My entire body tingles as he stops and looks up at me.

  “Don’t stop.” My voice is foreign to me, replaced by a needy lust-filled woman.

  A boiling pins and needles sensation sweeps through my center. I’m certain when he buries his face between my thighs that I’ve swallowed a pinless grenade. I have never felt anything comparable to the sensation of his tongue exploring my sex. My brain shuts down, allowing nothing but pleasure to register. My head cranes up on a breathy grunt to watch him as I wait for the detonation.

  My muscles don’t yet have time to relax from my orgasm, when Dallas wipes his mouth with the heel of his palm and climbs up my body, dropping feather-light kisses along my skin. I grab his face, draw up my legs, wrap them around his waist and grind against him while pressing my lips to his hard enough to bruise.

  “Slow down, babe,” he pleads. When I open my eyes to look at him, I can see the war waging. His restraint paper-thin and ready to crack.

  “I want this. Don’t stop. Don’t say anything, just do it.”

  He untangles himself from me and kneels. I jackknife up so we’re face to face. “Just do it?” he says.

  “Dallas, please. There has never been a more right time than right now.”

  “Here, City? Like this?”

  “I can’t think of a better place to have it happen.”

  Dallas regards me carefully a few moments. “At least let me bring you inside.”

  With lightning speed, I’m on my feet and we’re tangled together again. Fumbling. Clumsy. Lust-drunk and on some invisible timeline that ramps up the urgency.

  “You’re sure?” he asks, as we crash through the front door. I laugh and kiss him.

  “One hundred percent.”

  We bounce off the corner of the table, a wall and the bedroom door frame before sinking into the bed together, laughing.

  “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I don’t care.” This makes him pause, and suddenly I feel like I’ve done something wrong. “Just pull out. I’ve been on the pill since, you know, womanhood struck. Please, Dallas. Please.”

  His face morphs into a mischievous grin. “Tell me what you want.”

  His fingers massage torturous little circles on my nipples. “Fuck me.”

  Dallas’s eyes melt into something akin to lava at my words.

  “Whatever the lady wants.” His voice is nearly a growl and I am struck with an insatiable desire to bite him. Hovering over me I turn my face to his arm and sink my teeth gently into the flesh. As he gently pushes inside me.

  Holding still he drops to his elbows and peppers my face with his lips.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.”

  “Can I move?” he asks, and my heart nearly bursts at the seams with his concern for me.

  “I’d enjoy that, I think.”

  Dallas chuckles. “I love you Charlotte Johnston,” he says, as his hips begin to thrust.

  33

  Charlotte

  My mind wakes slowly, leisurely, I inhale the aroma of wet earth, underbrush and Dallas’s lingering body scent. The bed, the sleeping bag over us, still warm, saturated with the fragrance of our intimacy. Dallas’s arm is slung over my waist, hot and heavy—ever present. And I swear I actually feel like a different person somehow.

  We stumbled our way into the cabin, frenzied, and clumsily struggling to get to the bedroom without breaking contact. Our clothes and rational thoughts abandoned outside with the fireflies and stars, laughing and kissing before crashing onto the bed entwined.

  I squeeze my eyes tight to savor the memory. My mouth yawns into a smile as I turn my head into the pillow, remembering. God! I had sex with Dallas. Heat blooms across my chest as I think of the selfie he took of us in bed afterward. About the way the desire between us expanded and contracted in sync with our breaths in the moment.

  The sun is barely awake yet, the room still saturated in half shadows.

  I snuggle deep into Dallas, a smile on my face, and drift back to sleep as his chest swells and retreats against my back.

  When Nora wakes in the morning, still handcuffed to Holden’s bed, I am tending to at least a dozen small slices on her body. None too deep. None are too long, just enough to draw blood. Just enough to hurt. Just enough to scar. Just enough to make me hate the bastard a little more each day.

  I wring out the washcloth in a bowl of water, then dab the cloth gently across her wounds. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, when she flinches.

  “It’s not your fault.” Her voice is hoarse.

  “I didn’t save you.” I pause what I’m doing, overcome with guilt.

  Nora’s eyes connect with mine. “How could you? You’re just a kid.”

  “Yeah, but two of us against him might work. I was too scared to leave my room.” I sniffle. All I want to do is hug her, to hold her close to me, but I can’t because her back is riddled with cuts.
“I thought you were dead.”

  “Lotte, look at me,” Nora says.

  I raise my eyes to meet hers. I muster all the courage I can, so I look confident for her. She pulls my fingers to her pulse point. The steady thump of her blood pumping pushes against the pads of my fingers.

  “I’m not dead,” she says firmly.

  An involuntary sigh of relief escapes me.

  I gasp for air silently, the way a guppy out of water does, and rub my eyes. Blinking rapidly until it feels safe to look. To open them here in this place. Letting tears that balance precariously on the rims of my eyes fall, I sneak out of bed so I don’t disturb Dallas, who is still asleep. Memory of my dream pulses against me. In the cloudy mirror I gaze at myself and I swear I can see a shift. I feel different.

  I tiptoe through the living room, still remembering which floor boards to avoid, and out the front door. Cold wraps around me despite the early morning heat, and the rough boards of the porch prick the soles of my feet. My stomach pitches.

  “I hate you,” I whisper into the ether. “I hate you and I’d kill you again if I had the chance.” I've got fire raging in my soul. “I want to scream the truth at you even if you can’t hear me! You thought you were so important to me—to Nora—but all you were was a taker, Holden Douglas. You took and you took and you took.” My words slip through my clenched jaw into the air with venom. “It’s my turn. I took last night. I took it all back—my power. I erased you from this place. From your home. It’s full of love now. Real love. The kind that matters.” I collapse to the porch, legs hanging over the rough edge, tilt my watery eyes toward the sky and sigh. Screw you, Holden. My traitorous brain screams at me, pointing out the cliché: you aren’t different because of sex. Sex did not give you power. What kind of weak-ass woman are you that you would think that?

  Except, I do feel powerful and I do feel different this morning. I am changed. I will not let myself and the expectations that the world has set for women make me feel shameful about my truth. If sex changed how I feel, how I perceive myself this morning over yesterday, then so be it. Does the cause really matter if the effect is there?